


Allégro

by niawho



Series: HQ Valentine's Day Special 2021 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, BOTTOMI, Ballet AU, Ballet Dancer Sakusa Kiyoomi, Breathplay, DEDOS EN LA BOCA, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingers in Mouth, M/M, Mild Daddy Kink, Rimming, he did ballet he was a punk what else can i say, miya atsumu has lots of piercings, punk miya atsumu, top tsumu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niawho/pseuds/niawho
Summary: “Ya’ know...” Atsumu’s voice is low as he makes his way through the dim studio, sun setting already through the windows. Sakusa’s eyes catch his in the reflection of the mirror. “I had this whole day planned. I was gonna take ya’ to this restaurant ya’ been talkin’ about for weeks now. Got a reservation and everythin’,'' His movements are slow, dangerous. “Then I was gonna take ya’ to the movies. And then drive ya’ home and fuck ya’ nice and slow, just like ya’ like it. A perfect Valentine’s Day, don’t ya’ think?”Sakusa swallows thick.--.Or, the ballet au featuring ballet dancer Sakusa Kiyoomi and punk Miya Atsumu that nobody asked for.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: HQ Valentine's Day Special 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157075
Comments: 9
Kudos: 206





	Allégro

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! 
> 
> This is the third of four fics for our Valentine's special! Head over to [Laura's twitter](https://twitter.com/casualmeme_) to check out the incredible art piece that goes with the fic <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Sakusa twirls one more time, a drop of sweat rolling down his back as he falls quite perfectly to the floor the second the music stops, his routine coming to an end at the same time. His lungs are burning and his muscles are asking for some type of relief, yet he’s quick to stand on his feet, bowing his head down.

“Your balloné was a bit off,” His professor tells him, poking his right leg with the cane he uses to walk. Sakusa stays _still_. “Make sure to really flex that leg on the last plié. Don’t forget to extend your arms higher as well, you want to create a graceful silhouette, Sakusa.”

He nods, taking mental note of each and every point. His professor is still examining him, expert eyes roaming through Sakusa as the silence spreads between them. He waits for the next round of adjustments but is met with a pleasant smile– which is the most anyone has ever gotten out of his professor.

“Go over the routine two more times before you leave, and make sure to stretch properly when you’re done,” He says, before adding. “Good job today, Sakusa.”

A flame lights up inside Sakusa’s chest. “Thank you, sir.”

Compliments, genuine ones at least, are very rare in his career. Everyone is always praising ballet dancers for their discipline, and strength, and “how pretty” they look on stage, but those comments almost always come from people who know shit about ballet.

Real praise that came from people who actually know what they’re talking about is rare, and it feels _good_ . Sakusa knows he’s a great dancer, he is the main _danseur_ at his company after all, but being recognized for his efforts, for his _talent_ , makes him want to be even better.

He takes a second to chug down some water and check his phone before continuing with his practice, noticing the three unread messages popping in on his screen.

Sakusa taps the first one open.

From: **Tsumu**

> How’s rehearsal going?

> lmk when u finish

> Got a whole day planned for us ;)

A dum smile forms on his lips before he can stop himself. He quickly types a response.

To: **Tsumu**

> Look at you, bad boy Tsumu planning a date. 

> I’m still at the studio. Got about another hour to go. 

He doesn’t expect Atsumu to answer back almost immediately, his phone buzzing in his hand. Sakusa furrows his brows.

From: **Atsumu**

> But _Omiii_ you promised

> I can’t wait to see yoouuu

Who would have thought the Miya Atsumu he knew a couple of months ago at the tattoo shop, the Miya Atsumu that rides a damn Harley-Davidson, the same one that has more piercings than Sakusa can count and bleach blonde hair turned a platinum color, could be so dramatic?

Sakusa scoffs as he types his last response before tossing the phone back to his training bag.

To: **Atsumu**

> You will survive. Gotta go.

He doesn’t wait for a text back. Instead, he plugs in his earbuds and presses _play_ , the classic piece filling up his senses. 

It’s like his body automatically tunes to the melody as his limbs began to move, graceful movements perfected over extended years of professional training. It comes easy to him now, but there was a time it didn’t.

He loses himself to the classic ballet music, letting it take control. Sakusa doesn’t have to think of the next step, his mind and body move at their own accord, each part of the routine completely engraved in his body by now.

The music stops at the same time he hits the grand finally, opening his eyes to an empty studio.

His professor might be gone, but Sakusa is pretty sure that if he could have seen that last kick, he would have been very pleased.

Sakusa smiles to himself, ignoring the burning sensation in his calf, in his legs, in his _chest_. He lives for that feeling. 

Again, he has to go through the whole routine again.

The reflection in the mirror stares back at him as he gets into position, takes a deep breath, and hits _play_. In a second, the music is back to swallowing his senses and he is floating through the studio, embodying every tune of the music.

He might be alone, but Sakusa dances as if the world is watching him.

Sweat is accumulating in the small of his back, his feet are starting to hurt, but he feels alive. Closing his eyes to really lose himself in the last bit of the piece. He knows it’s not too professional to do so, but he doesn’t care. 

There’s nobody else in the studio but him and the music.

He hits the grand finale again, and this time, as he opens up his eyes, there’s someone else meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

Dressed in a black see-through t-shirt and a matching leather jacket, ripped jeans that let his knee tattoo peek underneath, leaning against the door frame, is Atsumu. His platinum hair falling onto his half-dazed eyes.

Sakusa feels something _pool_ in his gut.

He quickly stands up straight, taking the earbuds out. The studio is dead silent. “What are you doing here?”

Atsumu’s smile means nothing but trouble. “What? I can’t stop by to visit my hot boyfriend? Ya’ loved it when I come to yer rehearsals.”

They hold their gaze for a second. Sakusa can sense something is up, he has known Atsumu for a while to recognize when he has that _look_ on his face. The sensation in his gut seems to sink down.

“You know you can always stop by, I don’t mind. I like you watching me dance.” Sakusa says, walking towards his bag to get his water bottle and cellphone.

Guilt washes over him when not only he notices the time, but the multiple unseen messages. Fuck, they are _really_ late. He places both things back in this bag after taking a big chunk of water. 

Sakusa takes a second to look back at him, Atsumu hasn’t moved an inch. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting so long.” He starts, but doesn't get much more than a _hum_ as a response. “I just have to finish stretching and then we can get going.” 

Atsumu nods this time, carefully peeling himself off of the door’s frame at the same time Sakusa places himself in front of the bard and starts his routinary stretches.

“Ya’ know...” Atsumu’s voice is low as he makes his way through the dim studio, sun setting already through the windows. Sakusa’s eyes catch his in the reflection of the mirror. “I had this whole day planned. I was gonna take ya’ to this restaurant ya’ been talkin’ about for weeks now. Got a reservation and everythin’,'' His movements are slow, _dangerous_. Sakusa swallows thick. “Then I was gonna take ya’ to the movies. And then drive ya’ home and fuck ya’ nice and slow, just like ya’ like it. A perfect Valentine’s Day, don’t ya’ think?”

By the time Atsumu finishes talking, he’s just inches away from Sakusa, his hot breath breaking goosebumps along the back of Sakusa’s neck where it crashes. He can swear there’s electricity coursing through the small space that separates them.

Sakusa’s eyes are unwavering, holding Atsumu’s gaze as he continues his stretching routine.

“I’m sorry, Atsumu,” He whispers. “We can still make it to the movies and–”

He’s cut off by Atsumu’s hands suddenly on his hips.

Atsumu inches closer, close enough his lips brush against Sakusa’s ear. “Oh, we’re not going anywhere, babe.”

Beneath his clothes, Sakusa’s skin seems to light up where Atsumu’s hands roam free along his body. Atsumu’s brown eyes, sweet and caring most of the time, seem dark and full of something lustful as he meets his gaze in the mirror.

Sakusa can’t fight the shiver that erupts through him as Atsumu’s hand travels up his thighs, towards his torso, the touch burning through the thin material of his shirt.

Atsumu brushes the palm of his hand over Sakusa’s nipples above the fabric, causing his breath to hitch.

“ _Atsumu…_ ” Sakusa breathes out, his voice already wavering. 

Shit, he is _weak_. And Atsumu knows it.

He flashes Sakusa a smile through the reflection in the mirror. “Fuck the restaurant and the damn movies. I’m gonna fuck ya’ right here.” He purrs, his fingers twisting and pulling Sakusa’s sensitive nipples.

The first of many moans rips through his throat. His back shamelessly arching, silently urging Atsumu to continue his merciless play.

“Look at ya’,'' Atsumu's voice is breathy, _low_. He slips his hands down Sakusa’s shirt, the skin-to-skin contact making him tremble. “Always so eager fer me. We’re in public, baby, someone could walk in on us.” Another twist of his nipples. Atsumu's smile grows wider with the groan that Sakusa lets out. “Don’t ya’ have any shame left in ya’?”

Sakusa’s breathing turns uneven and he’s pretty sure it has nothing to do with his demanding dancing session, and everything to do with how Atsumu is pressing against him, pushing him against the railing, his own erection poking Sakusa’s ass.

Pressed tightly between the mirror and Atsumu’s firm body, Sakusa feels _trapped_ . What’s even worse is that the idea of being caged like this, forced to look at his flushed expression in the mirror, being able to not only feel but to _look_ at Atsumu grinding his clothed cock on his ass, is turning him on in ways he didn’t know could be possible.

Atsumu’s grin turns devilish, his accent _thick_ as it tickles Sakusa’s ear. “Ya’ want me to fuck ya’ here, don’t ya?” Sakusa’s mind is getting blurry, too focused on how hard Atsumu feels against him. “Ya’ act all high and mighty but ya’ like the thrill of it, hmm? Of someone walking in and seeing ya’ takin’ my cock.”

If Atsumu’s words send a course of electricity through his body directly down to his groin, Sakusa doesn’t show it.

Instead, he smirks back at him. “And what if I do?” He breathes out a bit too shakily but keeps his eyes locked on Atsumu. “Are you gonna fuck me, or you’re just gonna keep talking shit?”

He knows his words stirred something up inside of Atsumu. Sakusa can tell by the way Atsumu’s eyebrows arch and his mouth curves to the side in one smug, dangerous smile. However, he’s not ready for what Atsumu does next.

Instead of answering, Atsumu tilts Sakusa’s head to the side, exposing the delicate skin of his neck and connects it with his lips, making Sakusa gasp. They’ve been dating long enough for Sakusa to know Atsumu has a thing for leaving _hickeys_. His favorite spots are always near his moles as if he was counting them, connecting each one with a bite and a soft kiss.

But Atsumu has never been quite like this. Hungry lips bruising his tender skin, teeth digging in, causing both pleasure and pain at the same time, leaving Sakusa _panting_.

Atsumu leaps his tongue over the already bruising spot, his half tilted eyes returning Sakusa’s gaze over the mirror. He can swear his accent is even thicker now when he says, “Oh, I’m gonna fuck ya’ alright.”

The world spins around him as Atsumu’s hand finds a home near his lower back, pushing it down, inevitably making Sakusa bend over the railing, his face almost touching the mirror now.

It’s a bit embarrassing how quickly blood runs to Sakusa’s cheeks _and_ cock as Atsumu manhandles him. His whole body feels like exposed wired as he sets his eyes on the mirror, looking directly at Atsumu, watching as he runs a firm hand down the arch of Sakusa’s back, gives his ass a rough squeeze, and kneels _down_.

The sight of Atsumu scrunching down between his legs is a vision Sakusa wants to engrave in his memory forever. He tries to; tries to memorize the lust pouring out of Atsumu’s eyes in that moment, tries to retain the way Atsumu’s cheeks are also a bit flushed, lips puffed. 

Sakusa tries, but it’s completely taken back by the sound and the sight of his leotards being ripped open. Not pulled down, but _ripped_. The black, thin fabric torn to pieces at the hands of Atsumu just like that. As if it was that easy.

Atsumu’s smirk through the mirror is _lethal_. “They were in the way.”

“Those were expensive, you asshole,” Sakusa breathes out, hating himself by how turned on he really is. By how he isn’t half as mad as he should be about his very expensive leotards being ruined, but rather terribly turned on. His blood boiling inside of him, body aching with the need to be _owned_.

Atsumu shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll get ya’ some new ones,” He says before hooking a finger on the thin fabric of Sakusa’s jockstrap, pulling it aside to expose his most vulnerable part.

Sakusa should feel ashamed, being bare like that, legs slightly apart, back arched and ass perked up in the air, but he _isn’t_ . Sakusa can’t feel anything but a wave of desire wash through him as the reflection of Atsumu scoops closer between his legs, parts his cheeks apart, and gets to _work_.

His body feels on _fire_ . Sakusa braces himself against the railing, closing his eyes shut to really focus on the sensation of Atsumu’s tongue flat against his tight rim of muscles, leaping at it before pushing _in_ , the wet feeling making Sakusa see stars behind his eyelids.

“ _Atsumu_ ,” Sakusa moans, Atsumu’s name sounding filthy in his too broken voice.

He doesn’t get a response, though. At least not a verbal one. Instead, Atsumu grips his cheeks tighter and ravishes against his thigh entrance, tongue pumping in and out of him, teeth nibbling just right at the sensitive skin. 

Atsumu eats him out as if it’s his final day on earth and Sakusa is his last meal.

A symphony of low, incoherent sounds leaves Sakusa’s lips, filling the small studio. The wet, warm sensation feels so good, Sakusa surprises himself by rocking his hips down, desperately looking to meet Atsumu’s tongue along the way.

However, his attempts are cut short when Atsumu suddenly pulls back. Leaving Sakusa feeling suddenly empty, whining in response.

“Yer always so needy,” Atsumu teases, but Sakusa can still register the slight shake in his voice.

His own breathing is uneven as he catches a glimpse of Atsumu pulling something out of the pocket of his leather jacket. _A small package of lube,_ Sakusa registers, his cock twitching in response.

“You were _planning_ this,” Sakusa murmurs, tilting his head to see Atsumu. The real one, not the one in the reflection.

“Nah. I told ya’ I had a romantic night planned out, Omi-kun,” Atsumu pops the lid open, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. His other hand smacking Sakusa’s ass as he grins. “But I’ll admit this isn’t as bad. Now be good for me and stay quiet, yeah? Don’t want people to hear ya’ moanin’ like a whore, do ya’?”

 _Fuck you_ , is what Sakusa wants to say but doesn’t manage, being caught by the sudden intrusion of not one but _two_ lubed up fingers. He moans, loud and filthy, catching a glimpse of the satisfied smile on Atsumu’s face in the mirror. 

Atsumu is relentless, his fingers quickly and efficiently opening him up. There’s no sign of the usual care he always keeps whenever they’re making love. His movements are fast, and rough, and Sakusa would be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking loving it.

His vision goes white and his knees almost buckle when Atsumu pushes down on his prostate and _stays_ there.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sakusa sobs, involuntary clenching around his fingers.

“ _Hmm_ , ya’ like that, baby?” Atsumu cooes as he resumes his movements, grazing Sakusa’s prostate with his fingers time and time again. “Want me to fuck ya’ now?”

“ _Yes,_ ” He cries out, hips jerking down.

“Yes, _what_?”

Atsumu’s movements stop completely, making Sakusa _whine_. 

“Yes, _daddy._ ”

Atsumu curves his lips in a way too smug smile as he leans back and stands up. His eyes meet Sakusa’s through the mirror.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck ya’ in yer studio,” Atsumu murmurs, slowly taking his leather jacket off, his full sleeve tattoo completely in display now. Sakusa feels like he’s in a trance as he sees Atsumu going from removing his jacket, to unbuckling his jeans. “Imagine what all yer colleagues would say if they saw ya’ like this, ready to be fucked.”

The metallic sound of the buckle being undone gets to Sakusa’s ears and he can’t help but lower his gaze to see Atsumu’s cock bounce free from his pants. Thick and red where it stands against his stomach. His eyes are glued to him as he slowly, very slowly, rolls on a condom he took from his back pocket and coats himself in more lube.

Sakusa’s mouth waters in response, he wants Atsumu _in_ him. _Now_.

Atsumu seems to read his mind, because he inches closer to him, his chest draping over Sakusa’s back, his lips nibbling at his ear. The sight of Atsumu’s body covering his own in the mirror makes his head _spin_.

His words are low and heavy in Sakusa’s ear, making goosebumps break loose. “What would yer dear teacher say if he saw his main danseur being this naughty, _hmm_?” 

“S-shut up,” Sakusa hisses back, but it’s too weak, too _soft_. 

Atsumu smirks, his erection poking Sakusa’s perked up ass as he presses their bodies even closer. “What would yer friends say if they walked in on us right now?” Sakusa tries and fails to bite down a moan when feels Atsumu’s tongue in his ear. His words are merely a whisper now. “I’m gonna take ya’ and fuck ya’ so good ya’ won’t even think of dancing no more, Omi.”

Keeping true to his words, Atsumu sinks right into him without any warning. The hot, thick sensation of being filled up to the hilt making Sakusa moan obscenely loud, his knuckles turning white as he hangs onto the railing for dear life.

His body feels like every nerve is exposed, completely tuned to the killing rhythm of Atsumu’s hips slamming into him. Sakusa wants to close his eyes, drown in the delicious sensation running through his veins, but the sight in front of him is intoxicating.

Reflecting back at him from multiple angles across the different mirror walls across the studio, are their two bodies. Atsumu’s tattoos tense and relax over his muscles as he grips Sakusa’s waist with force. His face contorted in a mix of concentration and pure pleasure as he drives home with every snap of his hips, the sounds of skin meeting skin adding to the whole scene.

Sakusa looks just as wrecked, he notices when his eyes drift to his own reflection. Blushed cheeks and messed up curls that cling onto his sweaty forehead. His crop top dangling dangerously off his shoulder, exposing the hickey Atsumu left there just minutes ago.

He looks as blissed out as he feels right now.

One of Atsumu’s hands suddenly curls around his neck, forcing him to tilt his head up and meet his gaze in the mirror. His voice is low, raspy. “I had the whole day planned, ya’ know?” He growls in his ear, still relentlessly pounding into him. “Wanted ya’ to have a perfect date, yet look at ya’. Getting fucked like the slut ya’ are.” His hand tightens around Sakusa’s throat, muffling in his moan. “I was trynna be a sweet good boyfriend but all ya’ want is my cock.”

Atsumu snaps his hips harder at that, making Sakusa _howl_. His hot breath is clouding the mirror, eyes watery from pleasure, from the pain, from how good it all feels.

“Yer such a cockslut,” Atsumu groans, setting his hand free from Sakusa’s neck only to hook his fingers in his mouth. “Ain’t that right, _Kiyoomi_ ? Yer _my_ cockslut.”

A broken cry escapes his lips, spit drooling down his mouth as he so desperately tries to suck on Atsumu’s fingers. Swirling his tongue around them, sucking his cheeks at the same time.

Atsumu groans, every thrust sending Sakusa closer and closer to the edge. “Answer me, Omi. Wanna hear ya’.”

Sakusa groans, or cries, he doesn’t know, all he knows is that his body is instinctively rocking back to meet Atsumu’s movements, desperately looking for that last push that will release the tsunami wave building inside of him.

“ _Yes,_ ” Sakusa’s voice sounds strange to him, too breathy, _ruined_ . “Yes, Tsumu. God, _yes, yes._ ”

A million fireworks go off under his skin the second Atsumu blissfully moves his hand away from Sakusa’s neck to free his leaking cock from his ripped leotards. Setting a pace that matches his thrusts, and it’s like something _snaps_ inside him.

Sakusa isn’t usually a loud person, but right now, he can’t stop crying out Atsumu’s name like a broken record.

“Yeah, that’s it, _that’s it_ , Omi,” Atsumu breathes in his ear, his movements getting sloppy by the second. Sakusa’s own gut tightening and twisting. “Come for me, Omi. C’mon baby.”

“ _Atsumu_ ,” Sakusa manages to cry out as his body shoots white into Atsumu’s hand, a shiver running through him as Atsumu fucks him through his high.

He feels Atsumu’s body tense and stops for a moment, and Sakusa _knows_ he’s coming too. Knows it by how he lets his head fall on the crook of Sakusau’s neck, knows it by how Atsumu is groaning a raspy version of “ _Omi_ '' as he bites down on his tender skin. 

Sakusa knows it, because Atsumu’s reflection in the mirror looks just as wrecked as his.

It takes them a moment to come down from the high, and by the time Atsumu pulls out, Sakusa swears his legs are about to give _in_. Lucky for him, Atsumu is right by his side after he took off the condom and tossed it away, his pants already buckled in and all.

“Ya’ okay, Omi?” His voice is back to that sweet tone he always uses around him. He hands him a couple of wet wipes. “Here, to clean ya’ up.”

“You _did_ come prepared.” 

“I told ya’, I had a whole thing planned out.” A small smile appears on Atsumu’s face, and Sakusa is helpless but to return it to him.

The clean up is _messy_. Sakusa still feels a bit sticky as he changes into a fresh pair of leotards (thank god he always has an extra pair in his training back). He tries to soothe his hair to make it look like he didn’t just have sex, but there’s no point. Everything about his appearance screams he was recently fucked to the heavens and back.

“Ya’ ready ta’ go?” Atsumu catches his attention, sliding both arms around him from behind. His body feels warm and comforting as it drapes over Sakusa’s.

It feels nice.

“Go where?”

Atsumu smiles against his skin, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I still have some things planned for the evening. Let’s go.”

He pulls apart, offering Sakusa his hand and he takes it, thinking that he would let go anywhere as long as he has Atsumu by his side. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading <3!
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are super encouraging and mean so much to us! 
> 
> Again, remember to check the amazing art piece that [Laura](https://twitter.com/casualmeme_) made!


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